Hilda Wade by Grant Allen

A mansplainer’s half-baked idea of “women’s intuition”

Hilda Wade was published in 1900, shortly after the death of its author, Canadian-British writer Grant Allen. On his deathbed, Allen received some assistance in the completion of the novel from his friend and neighbor Arthur Conan Doyle. The two seem like an odd couple of pals since Allen was an atheist and skeptic, while Conan Doyle was so heavily into spiritualism. Nevertheless, they must have had a strong friendship. Any finishing touches Conan Doyle may have made to the manuscript are undetectable; the book reads like it’s all Allen. By the standards of his time, Allen was a liberal thinker, and he often wrote fiction that promoted radical ideas like atheism, socialism, and feminism. He was still firmly ensconced in the literary world of Victorian England, however, so any forays he made in those directions were baby steps at best.

Hilda Wade is a single woman who works as a nurse at a London hospital. She deliberately chose her place of employment because she wanted to work with a certain medical genius, Dr. Sebastian. In the first couple chapters, Hilda proves herself an able aid in Sebastian’s medical research. At first the expert physician doesn’t always greet Hilda’s suggestions with approval, but eventually he comes to learn that Hilda Wade is always right. The novel is narrated by Dr. Hubert Cumberledge, who also works with Sebastian, forms a friendship with Hilda, and not surprisingly develops a crush on her.

Similar to earlier works like The Woman Who Did and Miss Cayley’s Adventures, Hilda Wade is a novel with a strong, independent female protagonist who stretches the traditional gender role of the Victorian heroine. Any feminism that Allen intended with the novel is somewhat misguided, however. Like Miss Cayley, Hilda Wade is only allowed her independence until she fulfills her foregone destiny of marriage. Allen also places inordinate emphasis on Hilda’s superhuman power of “feminine intuition,” which sometimes allows her to magically predict the future. How does she use this wonderful power? Well, in one cringeworthy episode early in the book, Hilda asserts that lippy wives are destined to be murdered. Then she doesn’t do anything to save the woman in question from that horrible fate, but rather waits until after the killing to say I told you so.

The first four chapters of the book are really pretty bad. Fortunately, the plot then takes an unexpected twist and the novel evolves into a mystery. It is not, however, a Conan Doyle-style mystery in which clues lead to a revelation. Instead, the villain is revealed early, and from that point on the plot is really more of a cat-and-mouse chase that leads to far-off lands like Rhodesia and India. Allen never really takes full advantage of such exotic locales, however. Overall, Hilda Wade is a rather boring novel in which the possibilities for suspense are squandered and the characters are difficult to care about. In his desire to hold Hilda up as some kind of poster girl for new womanhood, Allen ends up creating a character with about as much depth as a cardboard cutout. In general I prefer Allen’s nonfiction writings to his novels, but even in the latter category, Miss Cayley’s Adventures and An African Millionaire are better than this. In the mystery and suspense department, Allen isn’t in the same league with his buddy Conan Doyle.
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